The Railway Series: The 'B' Class Bullies
by TARDIS9
Summary: A visiting engine on Sodor is subject to some very unfair treatment by Gordon, and learns the truth from Edward: that he resembles one of two engines who caused nothing but trouble on the railway. These stories tell of the subsequent demise of two engines who never made it into the books, because of their behaviour: 98462 and 87546.
1. Foreword

_The 'B' Class Bullies_

 _By A.H. Brazier_

 _Based on the Railway Series by the Rev. W. Awdry, and Thomas the Tank Engine and Friends by Britt Allcroft_

DEAR FRIENDS,

 _When a visitor received a cold reception from some of the Fat Controller's engines, it made the newcomer feel distressed and unwelcome. The engine in question was an LNER B12, called Beyer_ , _from the North Norfolk Railway, who suffered greatly at the hands of Gordon, owing to some bad memories. This is because one former member of the North Western Railway fleet was of the same class, and was badly behaved, as was another engine, an LNER B17. I speak, of course, of 98462 and 87546, the two rudest steam engines to grace (or should I say DISgrace?) Sudrian metals. But when it came to their fatal accident, the engines say they brought their fate upon themselves. See what you think_.

THE AUTHOR.

 _Story Stops:_

 _1\. Vandalism_

 _2\. Trouble On The Tidmouth Express_

 _3\. End Of The Line_

 _4\. Rescue in the Snow_

 **Warning: Some of these stories contain themes which some readers may find disturbing. Readers aged under 12, or who are easily disturbed may read on at their own risk.**


	2. Story 1: Vandalism

_Vandalism_

'I still say it's a ridiculous idea' grumbled Gordon one morning in the sheds. 'What on Earth possessed the Fat Controller to bring over _that_ engine, an engine that looks like _him_ , after all _they_ did?'  
'Because it's to promote his railway. He is the only one of his kind in existence, Gordon, as _you_ , being an experimental prototype yourself, should know!' replied Edward, crossly. He had noticed how sad the visitor, who was standing in a siding, had looked, and felt sorry for him. 'Anyway, _he_ is a visitor, and should be respected, so curb your tongue, unless you have anything nice to say!'

Recently, the Fat Controller had made arrangements with the North Norfolk railway for their LNER B12 locomotive to work on Sodor, that autumn. The B12, who was numbered 8572, was due for repairs, and the railway was to host some fundraising events to earn money. There were special events across both Sodor and North Nofolk. Both the North Western Railway and the North Norfolk Railway had arranged for fun runs, Thomas had been loaned to the North Norfolk Railway for several 'Day out with Thomas' events, and 8572 was even pulling expresses up to Barrow-In-Furness, with all the profits going to his repairs. This was particularly useful since Pip and Emma, the High-Speed twins who usually took the express there, were away being overhauled too, following a breakdown affecting both of them. Predictably, Gordon wasn't too keen on these arrangements, especially since he secretly wanted to pull the express to Barrow himself again.

Unfortunately, the engine's design was _exactly_ the same as one of two engines who had already arrived on Sodor. This caused some tension amongst Gordon, Henry and Thomas. Fortunately, Thomas had spoken to 8572, before he left, and found him to be a friendly sort of an engine, and the two had become friends. Meanwhile, Henry, although he would often look at 8572 with distrust, he always spoke to him with politeness. Gordon, on the other hand, constantly shouted insults at him whenever they passed each other, and was doing so now, as he puffed away to take his express. 'Unwanted pile of scrap!' he shouted. Poor 8572 looked as though he would cry very soon. He had had enough of Gordon's insults, and this was the worst one he had heard! Edward gently pulled up, a kind smile on his face.

'Hello' said Edward. 'I'm Edward. What's your name?'  
'I don't have a name officially. Most of the enthusiasts call me by my number, 8572, but the other engines call me Beyer, after one of my designers, so I suppose you can call me that.' Beyer said quietly.  
'Quite right. Having a name makes you feel like you really belong somewhere. I take it you're rather afraid of that big engine?' Edward asked.  
Beyer gently murmured 'uh-huh'.  
'Don't worry about Gordon. It's times like this when he gets ideas above his station, that he gets over-confident, like that time when he got stuck on a hill, after saying how little I was, and how grandly he would be pulling the express!'

The two engines started talking about their past. Beyer learned about some of the adventures Edward had had, such as the time he had rescued Trevor the Traction Engine from scrap, and when he managed to get a group of enthusiasts home during a particularly bad storm. Edward learned about Beyer's past as well, from when he was first built, to when he had been repainted into his British Railways livery, to the day he was rescued by preservationists. By the time they had finished, you would have thought they were old friends! 'I swear, Edward, I thought I'd never get out of that horrible place!' exclaimed Beyer. 'Well, you deserved it, unlike the last engine I met who looked like you!' Edward smiled, before realising what he had just said. He suddenly went very quiet. 'What makes you say that?' asked Beyer.  
'Well, let's just say it was a case of a bad experience' replied Edward. 'We once had another LNER B12, 98462, he was called. He and an experimental LNER B17, 87546 we called him, well, to be honest, they were two of the most horrible engines you could ever meet. They were both sent away, years ago, though, I'd say about 1922, so thankfully we never saw them again. Although, even they may not have entirely deserved their fate. I've got time before my next train is due to leave, if you would like to hear this story, but I do warn you, you may find it disturbing.'  
'I suppose I would like to hear it, if only to understand why Gordon is so mean to me. At least your number three is polite, and your LB&SCR E2 friend, Thomas, is a pleasant sort of engine.'  
Edward smiled, and this is the story he told…

Many years ago, three small railways, the Sodor and Mainland Railway, the Tidmouth, Knapford and Elsbridge railway and the Wellsworth and Suddery railway, merged into one railway: The North Western Railway. It was run by the Fat Controller's grandfather, sir Charles Topham Hatt, otherwise known as the Fat Director. This change came with some considerable expansion of the line, and to help build and run it, new engines were brought in, such as Thomas, Edward, Henry and Gordon. Thomas and Edward were two of the first engines to arrive, and helped with the construction work. After this was finished, Thomas became a station pilot, shunting trucks and coaches for the other engines, until he would rescue James and earn his own branch line. Edward was used less and less, until the day when he got taken out for a passenger run, and did so well that his driver promised to take him out again the next day.

The line had three other engines. One of them was called Eagle. He was red, the same colour that James would eventually become. He was a helpful sort of engine, and was willing to come to the aid of those in need. The other two were blue engines. They had no names, only numbers: 98462 and 87546. These two engines were callous, rude and disrespectful towards the other engines. They prided themselves greatly, considering themselves above everyone else, and were not afraid of saying so, to the point where even Gordon, for all his arrogance, grew hurt and impatient with them.

One day, Thomas was shunting coaches for Eagle's stopping service into the platform at the Big Station at Vicarstown. He stopped and his driver uncoupled him, ready for him to shunt the express into the station for 98462. Gordon was away for some minor repairs, following an accident with a car at a level crossing. The damage to him wasn't too bad, but one of his buffers had been dented. Anyway, 98462 reversed crossly into the station, disobeying a signal set at danger, which was set to warn engines that Thomas was on the line. 'Hurry up, little Puffball!' he snapped at Thomas. 'You're blocking my line!' Thomas seethed crossly.  
'It's you who's on the wrong part of the line, you bully! You just passed a signal at danger! You might've derailed yourself on the points!' he snapped crossly.  
'Ha! As if I'd derail myself on points, I'm so big!' laughed 98462 rudely. 'You're smaller than a spider compared to me, little Thomas (and dare I mention, about as good-looking as a pig), so I think I can have better luck on a pair of stupid points!'

Thankfully, 98462 had not fouled the points, so Thomas was still able to move over to the other line. It was most unfortunate, however, that neither engine had noticed a group of young men throwing rocks at one of the points Thomas was due to cross over, jamming them, and that the signalman had almost forgotten about Thomas, until he saw the two engines on the same tracks. As soon as he set the points straight in front of Thomas, Thomas started to move. He then quickly moved over to change the other points, so Thomas could move onto the other line, run around the coaches, and get behind them, to push 98462's train to help it start. As soon as he realised those points were jammed, he rushed out, and tried to warn Thomas, but his cries were unheeded. Thomas was in such a foul mood that he didn't notice, and anyway, he was moving much too fast to stop in time. As soon as he crossed over the points, the front two wheels on his left climbed up and over the rails, and crunched the ballast, while the front two wheels on his left rested on the sleepers.  
'Bust my buffers!' he exclaimed.  
98462 laughed rudely. 'See what I mean?' he chuckled. ' _I_ would never have any trouble with points, I'm so big!'  
'Well your driving wheels might not, but your wheels in front might!' snapped an embarrassed Thomas in anger.

Soon, Eagle brought the breakdown train, with the Fat Director on board. First he helped 98462's train to start, then he returned to help clear the mess, and take Thomas to the works. The Fat Director spoke kindly to Thomas.  
'The accident wasn't your fault, Thomas. Those hooligans should have known better than to throw rocks onto the line. However, I'm afraid you'll have to go to the works for a few repairs. Eagle will take over your work, and Edward will, I'm sure, be willing to help with Eagle's trains.'  
'Thank you, sir' Thomas said sadly.

Thomas was loaded onto a flatbed, and Eagle took him to the works.  
'Cheer up, Thomas!' encouraged Eagle. 'The accident could've been worse, after all!'  
Thomas sighed. 'It's not that, Eagle. It's 98462. He called me a 'little Puffball', and said he could never derail himself on points.'  
'Pah!' retorted Eagle. 'Take no notice of him. You know what he and 87546 are like! Besides, with an attitude like that, his words would probably come back and bite him in the coal bunker one day!'

Eagle was righter than he thought. Over the next few days, while Thomas was being mended, Eagle would shunt the express for 98462, noticing and even trying to tell him that he was moving into the station with the signal and points set against him, but he just laughed rudely. However, this would soon come to an end. On the day Thomas was due to return, 98462 was pulling an express train from Barrow-In-Furness to the Big Station.  
'Come on, come on, come on!' he demanded to the coaches.  
'All right, we're coming, all right, we're coming!' grumbled the coaches.  
'Hah! Look at me now, Look at me now!' sang 98462. 'Poop poop, poop poop, poop! I'd like to see some stupid points stop me now!'  
But he'd reckoned without Jack.  
Jack was a new signalman, and today was his first day on the job. He hadn't met all the engines before. The engine he heard in the distance was, he thought, 87546 on a stopping strain. So he tried to set the points in the station ready for the train to run around, successfully changing one of them so that 98462 would be diverted towards the second platform. But 98462 had been moving much too fast. He crossed over one set of points, derailed on the other, continued to move at a dangerous speed, and climbed up and over onto the platform.

The guard had saved the coaches. He had happened to lean out of his window before 98462 crossed the points, and saw that the points ahead of them were against the train. Knowing what would happen, he slammed on his brakes, significantly slowing down so that only 98462 would come off the rails.

98462 looked ridiculous! The whole of his body was mounted on the platform, and half of his tender hung dangerously over the edge, while the other half was nestled in the track. Angry passengers and staff helped each other off the ground and out of the coaches, and swarmed around 98462, embarrassing him, and saying what a bad railway it was. Worst of all, he saw Thomas, who had just returned that morning and had seen everything, laughing so hard it looked as though his boiler would burst. The Fat Director came out of his office to see what had happened. One look at the awkward disaster told him everything. He glowered meaningfully at Thomas, who stopped laughing, and started to pull the coaches away. Then he spoke severely to Jack and 98462. Jack immediately apologised, and promised to help clear up the mess. 98462, on the other hand, insisted it was not his fault.  
'I'm aware of that, 98462,' said the Fat Controller, 'But Thomas has told me about what you said to him. You deserved this accident from all the trouble you cause us. Maybe next time, you'll be more careful on what you say about points, and passing signals at danger, too. And you can forget ever pulling the express again, I can assure you that much!' He turned on his heels, and walked sternly away, leaving 98462 to gnash his teeth in rage!'

'…And lo, he was right. 98462 never pulled another express for the rest of his life' finished Edward.  
'That's not right!' exclaimed Beyer. 'I thought you were going to tell me about how he and 98462 got sent away.  
'Ah, but that story was just an example of their bad behaviour' replied Edward. 'Anyway, I will tell you more later, but I've got a train to take now, and so have you, by the looks of your points!'  
Beyer looked down and gasped. 'My express!' he cried, and hurried away. Edward laughed. 'Quite an amusing engine, and interesting too!' he chuckled, and puffed away to pick up his trucks to take to the China Clay Works.

 _While Thomas's accident was fictional, the idea of young men jamming the points was inspired by an incident on the Bure Valley Railway in 2013, in which points were jammed by vandals. 98462's accident however, though it involved two engines in real life, was based on an accident involving the Sheffield to Birmingham and Bristol express, at Dure and Totley station in 1907, in which the double-headed express ran foul of the points. The front engine climbed up and onto the platform. The driver and fireman were thrown off the footplate, and survived, and, because the coaches remained on the rails, no passengers were hurt or killed._


	3. Story 2: Trouble On The Tidmouth Express

_Trouble on the Tidmouth Express_

Beyer took his express to Barrow, where he was met with rapturous applause. 'Ten minutes early' the passengers noted. 'And such a smooth ride, too!' The Fat Controller was pleased.  
'An excellent job, Beyer!' he said. 'Your owners will be very pleased to know what a Really Useful Engine you are!'  
'Thank you, sir!' Beyer smiled.

When he returned to the sheds, he was in a very good mood. Not only was Gordon away from the shed, taking the express, but also, he had been another five minutes early on the way back with his express.  
'Had a good run?' Edward asked.  
'The best! Ten minutes early there, five back, and all very smooth!' Beyer grinned.  
'All ship-shape and Swindon-fashion, then. Good work, Beyer!' congratulated Duck, who was also in the shed. He was due to take the last passenger train to the Little Western in half an hour, and decided to have a rest with the other engines.  
'What's that mean?' asked Beyer as he backed down in between them.  
Edward laughed. 'It means everything went perfectly. Duck likes things to be done the 'Great Western way'' he explained.  
'The Greatly-Mistaken Way if you ask me,' muttered Henry from a corner in the shed. Beyer shot him a dirty look. Henry remained stonily silent.  
'There's nothing wrong with engines like Beyer being a few minutes earlier than the schedule says!' exclaimed Duck in Beyer's defence.  
'Oh, really?' replied Henry. 'Engines like…well…Edward, do you remember what happened to 87546 that one time, when he tried to be early?'  
'That,' said Edward, 'was only because of his own self-importance!'  
'What happened?' asked Beyer, looking from Henry to Edward, curious as to what his cousin had done.  
Henry puffed stonily away, muttering something about having to take the Flying Kipper slightly earlier than usual.  
Edward cleared his throat and began. 'As it happens, Beyer, I was going to tell you about how badly 87546 behaved, anyway. This happened a few months after 98462's crash…'

Just at the bottom of Gordon's hill, on the inside line, the curve is significantly tighter than all the others. This was mainly so there would be enough space for the engines to successfully navigate the curve without either hitting anything on either side of the line, or coming off the rails, if the train is going slow enough. If the train went too fast, it would tilt too much, and come off the rails, whether the engine was pulling trucks or not. Most of the engines were careful when running over this particular piece of track. They knew it was for their own good. 87546, however, had other ideas. 'You're all just scared!' he scoffed. 'You should try a bit of record-breaking, be a bit more daring, like me!'  
Edward rolled his eyes. He was one of the few engines who stood up to 98462 and 87546.  
'You, with all your speeding, 87546, should at least know better than to go speeding around tight corners' he argued.  
'Pah!' retorted 87546. 'That corner's safe enough for engines to go over at about a hundred and thirty-six miles an hour! I…'  
'…am being incredibly foolish!' snapped Edward.  
'Agreed!' said Gordon. 'Express engines may be fastest and best, 87546, but, on a railway, safety _and_ being on time both share top priority!'  
87546 just snorted in disgust.  
The railway was having a hard time keeping up with its demands. Two of its engines were currently out of service. 98462 was being repaired, following his accident, and Henry was still bricked up in his tunnel. This meant that new engines were needed. The Fat Director had just brought in a second red engine, while 98462 was in the works, and, following Henry's spell in the tunnel, was in the process of arranging the purchase of a black L&YR Class 28 experimental engine, who would later turn out to be James, before he was painted red. The demand for extra trains meant that the engines had to work harder than ever. To add insult to injury, Gordon was sent to the works to have his safety valve mended. Henry, who had been let out of the tunnel, had helped Edward take over the express that day, but he suffered greatly from his illnesses, meaning that he couldn't take the express that often. So the Fat Director grudgingly gave responsibility of the express over to 87546, who revelled in the opportunity. In the few days Gordon was being mended, he boasted about his responsibility to the others, to such an extent that the Fat Director was beginning to wonder whether another engine should take the express, instead. Then came the day that confirmed his thoughts.

87546 waited crossly at Barrow-In-Furness for the connection to the mainland. 'Five minutes!' he muttered angrily. Just then, another engine pulling a passenger train puffed in, out of breath. Immediately, the passengers burst out, among them the Vicar of Wellsworth and his family, coming back from their holiday. The Vicar was heading to Tidmouth to help his sister, brother-in-law, and baby niece take their luggage home, and stay the night with them. 'I'm sorry…Staff trouble' the engine panted. 'Had trouble…finding…a guard.'  
'Stuff and Nonsense!' snapped 87546. 'You're just too slow! All of you engines are! You're all unfit for service. Why can't you just go and roll yourselves on the scrapheap?'  
The other engine gasped in shock.  
When 87546 had gone, Eagle, who had just delivered a goods train, and had seen everything, pulled up alongside the engine, who had stopped by the water tower for a rest.  
'Don't worry about him. He's always like that' Eagle explained. 'He'll get what's coming to him, you mark my words!'  
'I hope so! He deserves it' replied the other engine crossly. 'He said we should just get ourselves scrapped, if we can't go as fast as him.'  
'Well, by the way he's going, I wouldn't be too surprised if _he_ got scrapped first, with an attitude like that!'

Things got worse for 87546 as the journey went on. At the next station, a signal had failed, and, since he was the first train to arrive at the signal, he inevitably had to wait while it was mended. 87546 seethed impatiently at this. 'We should just go on through! We're late enough already!' he moaned to his crew.  
'No one can say we disagree with you' said his driver, who personally wanted to finish the journey so he could get home and away from his disrespectful engine, 'but it's orders.'  
'Pah! You're just a goody two-shoes, too afraid to take a few tiny risks!' said 87546. 'We'd be able to puff safely through the whole line, if you weren't a coward!'  
'I'd rather be a coward, than a reckless piece of scrap!' the driver muttered to the fireman, who solemnly agreed with him.

Half an hour later, amidst the complaints of the passengers, not helped by 87546's insults, the workmen had fixed the signal. By then, some of the passengers had decided they had had enough, and left the express. Some exchanged their tickets, and caught another passenger train on the other line, which was hauled by Edward. Others refunded their tickets, and either caught the bus, or walked home. This made 87546 crosser and crosser.  
When the guard blew his whistle, 87546 started almost immediately, jerking the couplings on his coaches. 'OW! OW! OW!' they screamed. 'We don't like that! We don't like that! We don't like that!' Every wise engine knows never to bump coaches, or else they will pay the engine out.  
'Shut up, and get moving!' snapped 87546, utterly incensed with rage. 'We're late enough as it is!'  
'I think I know where this is going, and I don't like this' groaned the driver.  
'Why's that?' asked the fireman.  
'Because of a story I heard about an engine who wouldn't stop, no matter what' the driver replied. 'I used to work on the Mid-Sodor Railway, and I heard a story about an engine named Albert. He was a horrible engine, and thought he knew better than anyone, including the manager. He tried to rush his work, and ended up running dry, using up _all_ his water. He got scrapped as a result, and, well, by the way 87546 is going, I wouldn't be surprised if something bad _did_ happen.'

The driver was right. They were climbing up Gordon's hill, when 87546 started speeding up. Since his train was now half-empty, he didn't need a banker as much. He was also a strong engine, built as an experimental engine to pull heavier loads than engines like 98462.  
The driver, expecting the worst, fought for control. What made matters worse was that they were on the down line – the same line as the sharp corner on the other side! When 87546 saw the curve ahead of him, he realised his mistake, and tried to stop, but the force of the coaches only made him go faster. They had decided to pay him out by pushing him down the hill! The driver fought to reduce speed, but they were still going too fast. Acting quickly, the driver and fireman jumped clear, and the guard slammed on his brakes, while 87546 just shut his eyes.

The front half of the train tilted to one side, hitting the ground with a sickening 'Thud!' The second stopped with such a jolt that the coach who was now at the front suddenly found itself resting in between the sleepers and the ballast, with a rail running right underneath her. Edward, who was the banker at that time, rolled up alongside the wreckage. It was worse than he thought. 87546 was blocking two lines. He and the front half of his train lay on their side on one track, right in front of Edward, while the other half of his train had stayed upright on the other line. A crowd of passengers had gathered around the train. Some of them were groaning. Their faces suggested they had been hurt. Then Edward saw one of the passengers being carried on a stretcher. He heard Gordon's whistle in the distance, and the big engine puffed up the hill behind him. He replied with three blasts. 'Stop, Gordon!' he called. Fortunately, the signalman had been told of the accident. He set all the signals in the area to 'danger', and told Gordon to proceed with caution, and be prepared to stop, when needed. Gordon had needed to stop anyway for a banker. He opened his mouth to demand why such an important engine needed to stop. Then he saw the passengers, and promptly shut it. 'Get the injured passengers to the last station, fast as you can, Edward!' came a familiar voice, who then told 87546's guard to phone an ambulance and meet the train at Wellsworth. Edward, knowing who the voice belonged to, quickly ran to the bottom of the hill, while Gordon and his crew, acting instinctively, uncoupled themselves from the coaches, and raced away to fetch the breakdown train.  
'This is why I never liked these big engines!' snapped the Fat Director. 'I would have hoped you would know better than to do something as stupid as this, 87546! An engine of your size should never go that ridiculously fast! Even Gordon knows that! Because of you, sixteen passengers were injured, one, the Vicar of Wellsworth, seriously!'  
'It wasn't my fault, sir. My driver made me go faster' replied 87546.  
'No I didn't, you liar! You wanted to go faster, just because we were delayed by a broken signal!' corrected the driver.  
'So not only have you put your passengers in danger, but you have also just lied to me!' yelled the Fat Director. 'I have had it with you, 87546! When you're mended, you can stay in your shed until I decide what to do with you!'

'…So he left 87546 in the shed for a very long time. 87546 resented him for this, and made whatever job he had when he was taken out to take over from us difficult. He and 98462 paid the price for their foolishness eventually, though!' finished Edward.  
'What happened to them?' asked Beyer.  
'Thankfully, the Vicar of Wellsworth recovered, so no charges were pressed against us on his part, but, well…' Edward began, but was interrupted by Gordon's whistle.

 _Based on an accident at Sleaford North Junction, in which LNER B17 No. 2829 'Norwood Castle' derailed, due to excessive speed on a curve. While no one died in the story, four people were killed in the accident in real life. Sixteen people were also injured, one seriously. That person's fate is unknown by the author. The delays 87546 experienced were based on those also experienced by the author travelling between Chichester and High Hurstwood between April and May, 2016._


	4. Story 3: End Of The Line

_End Of The Line_

Gordon backed down angrily into the shed. 'Trucks!' he grumbled. 'I'm an express passenger engine! I should not have to pull them! They hold me up on the hill, and then try and derail me on the other side, and to add to that, one of the stupid things derails itself on some points, and the Fat Controller blames _me_ for it!'  
'And with good reason!' replied Bear, who backed down into the berth next to him. 'The signalman didn't set the points in time. I'll let the Fat Controller know next time I see him, but you, Gordon, should know better than to act like royalty every time you have to pull trucks!'  
Beyer and Edward gave each other agreeing looks. Gordon noticed this.  
'And what makes you so wise, you mainline menace? You think you're better than all of us?' he said rudely to Beyer.  
'I…' began Beyer.  
'You're all the same, you B12s. Nothing but trouble, the whole lot of you!' Gordon carried on. Edward gasped. He expected James to say something like this about diesels, but he never knew Gordon shared the same views about a particular design of steam engine!  
'Now see here!' began Beyer, but Gordon cut him off.  
'We 'A' class engines are far more reliable, efficient and well-behaved than _your lot_. All you B12 and B17 engines do is cause us nothing but trouble!' Gordon sneered.  
'THAT'S ENOUGH!' yelled Edward. He looked furious. The other engines were surprised and slightly scared. They had never seen Edward like this. 'Gordon, your attitude is making you worse than _them_ , and if you carry on like this, you'll meet a similar fate!'  
Beyer, slightly frightened, asked 'You…you mean 98462…a-and 87546? Wh-what h-happened to them?'  
Edward realised how scared he had made Beyer, and apologised, before adding 'It's because of their accident that they were sent away. They were bound to be expelled from the railway, though, given their bad behaviour, but, to be fair, it may not have been entirely their fault…'

98462 and 87546 never sought repentance following their accidents. They thought they were in the right, and constantly criticised the Fat Director and the other engines for this. One evening, the two engines were alone in the shed. 'I should be pulling high-speed expresses, not slow goods. I'm clearly too good an engine for this _park railway_ ' said 98462.  
'That makes two of us!' agreed 87546. 'I should be in use, not standing in the shed, collecting dust, like that relic, Edward, should be doing!'  
Then an idea flew into 98462's funnel.  
'You're confined to the shed, you say? Listen, I've got an idea to get you out. We'll show that Fat Idiot what we can do…'

The next day, when the shed foreman came, 98462 told him that 87546 was to be let out. 'It's Director's orders' lied 98462. 'He came by this morning in a hurry, and told me to let you know.'  
The foreman, suspecting nothing, sent one of the workmen round to 87546's crew's houses, to let them know. It was only when both engines had left for work that he started to feel that something was wrong. Surely the Fat Director would let him know immediately if an engine was to be let out of the shed, instead of asking an engine like 98462 to tell him! However, he had just heard that Henry had broken down – again – so he decided not to think about it anymore.  
He might've stopped the accident if he had.

Edward was shunting in the yard that day, when the signalman ran up. He pointed to two coaches standing outside his signal box. 'Can you move these coaches to the other loop, please?' he asked. 'There's an empty train of coal trucks due to come in to make way for a local passenger train, and they're both on the same line.'  
'Right away' said Edward as he reversed onto the other line, and coupled up to the coaches. They both had names on their sides, which read 'Annie' on the coach facing him, and 'Clarabel' on the coach behind her. 'Where are we going? Where are we going?' twittered the coaches.  
'Just onto the other siding. We have to make way for two other trains to come through' Edward replied.  
'Oh such a shame!' replied Annie.  
'We never go anywhere these days!' replied Clarabel.  
'Well, maybe you may get lucky!' laughed Edward.

At Vicarstown, Thomas had just finished shunting a local train for 87546. It had originally been for Henry, but he had just been told of the last minute change in engines. Unfortunately, the only coaches available were old ones, which were gas-lit. It was still early in the morning, and the passengers had just started to arrive. They weren't too keen on having to travel in old coaches who were clearly due for an overhaul, but were in a hurry for either work or school, and so boarded the train, regardless. Thomas had had his doubts about the train he had just assembled, but there were no coaches left in the yard, until Gordon came in with his express from Barrow-In-Furness, and Edward was due to fetch some new coaches from Crovan's Gate. Just then, 87546 backed down onto his train. 'Pooh!' he exclaimed. 'Smelly _old_ coaches! I'd rather have new ones any day!' He was soon followed by 98462.  
'Saw you needed a bit of help' he said. 'We _real_ engines must stick together.'  
Thomas was confused. 'Aren't you supposed to be in your shed, 87546? Last I heard, you were banned from pulling trains. And shouldn't you be taking your express goods now, 98462?'  
'Shortage of engines, and it's too heavy for one engine.' 87546 said quickly, hoping the Fat Director hadn't heard them. This was partly true, given Henry's breakdown, but Thomas didn't realise 87546 was lying to him. The guard blew his whistle and waved his green flag. 'Come on, come on, come on!' barked the two engines. The coaches groaned and creaked after them. They had heard about what had happened the last time 87546 had taken a passenger train and were not too keen on having him take them out.

Soon they were racing along the main line. 'Come on, come on, come on!' urged 87546.  
'He's at it again!' groaned the driver. 'Any other engine would surely have learned their lesson by now!' agreed the fireman, before muttering 'he'll be the death of us one day!'  
Bridges and houses flashed by, and soon they were nearly at the yard where Edward was shunting.

Meanwhile, Edward had just shunted Annie and Clarabel into the loop on the 'down' line towards Vicarstown, when Neil, one of the old Sodor and Mainland engines, bustled past with a train of ballast trucks. Every wise engine knows that ballast trucks are the most badly behaved, and Neil was clearly having trouble with them. Neither of them could hear them very well when they were approaching, and tried to ignore them when they arrived, but they did hear a lot of impolite name-calling going on between him and the trucks. The ballast train halted next to Edward.  
'Having trouble, Neil?' asked Edward kindly.  
'Aye! Yon trucks, agin! I've 'ad enough of their havers!' Neil replied.  
Eagle pulled in with some empty coal trucks onto the loop next to the signal box, just as the signalman ran up. 'Neil, there's an express due in on your line. You'll have to move on to the other line to make way for it' he said.  
Edward spoke up. 'Please sir, may I take the train over for Neil. He's having far too much trouble with his trucks, but I can handle them!'  
'Very well, but be quick!' replied the signalman.  
Neil uncoupled and moved forward, and Edward left Annie and Clarabel. Once Neil had moved into the siding where the two coaches were, the signalman changed the points so they were set for Gordon to pass by. This meant that all four lines were in use. This was not usually encouraged on a railway, but exceptions had been made, since Gordon, 98462 and 87546 were pulling express trains. Both were running late. Gordon had been delayed due to some maintenance on the line, and the other two had been halted by another signalman, with the Fat Director standing next to him, outside a signal box. He hadn't been too happy to hear that 87546 had lied to everyone, nor that 98462 was pulling passengers when he was forbidden to do so, and had told them to finish their passenger train and leave the railway. The routine was that one train would be shunted onto one line, to make way for a late train to run through, and then, while a third train had been halted, move onto another train, once it was clear, for that third train. The trouble was that, at the same time, the signalman had gone off-duty, and another signalman had taken over. This signalman suffered from short-term memory loss, meaning that he soon forgot about Neil's goods train. So he set the signal for 'all clear' for 87546, who was tearing along the line. Edward, Eagle and Neil heard 87546's whistle in the distance. By then, it was much too late.

Immediately, Annie, Clarabel and the engines went into a panic. The points were set against Neil and the coaches, so they couldn't move, to make way for Gordon, who had been delayed by a last-minute passenger. Eagle was blocked by Edward, who tried to reverse in his fright, but the ballast trucks had slipped their brakes on 'accidentally on purpose.' 'Push! Push! Push!' they cried to each other, holding the whole train in one place. 'No, no!' everyone cried. 'There's another train coming through!' The trucks either ignored their cries, or decided to keep the train at a standstill because another train was approaching.

'Get a move on! Get a move on!' barked 98462 and 87546 to the coaches. The coaches wailed openly. They had a bad feeling that something would happen to them all. Then 98462 saw that the line ahead was blocked, and called out to 87546 to stop. They braked hard, but were still going much too fast to stop in time. 'Stop! Stop!' wailed the two engines, but the coaches, fed up with their bullying and unaware of the danger ahead, pushed them relentlessly forwards. 'On! On! On!' they cried. As the train approached Edward, all the engines shut their eyes, while Edward's, Neil's and Eagle's crews ran for cover.

The scraping of metal against metal could be heard for miles around, as could an almighty CRASH! Eagle, Edward and Neil opened their eyes in just enough time to see what was left of the local train strewn across Edward's line and Gordon's line. They quickly shut them again as Gordon raced through, hit the wreckage and derailed, himself and his coaches scraping Annie and Clarabel's paint, while the passengers screamed in panic! Worse followed. A faint burning smell could be smelt everywhere, and soon the yard was in a raging inferno. Screams were heard, as passengers trapped in the flames tried to escape, but failed. Edward slowly opened his eyes, and saw 98462's face pleading in desperation, begging Edward to save him. Edward looked at him sadly, and said 'I'm sorry. There's nothing anyone can do.' There was nothing else he could say.

'…It was the worst accident this railway has ever had' Edward concluded gravely. 'Neil, Eagle, Annie and Clarabel were just in need of a repaint. Annie and Clarabel were in so much shock that it took their being given to Thomas when he was awarded his branch line to help them to recover fully. I was so badly damaged, I was almost beyond repair, and rebuilt to my old design. Gordon was also extremely badly damaged, but not as bad as me, although the fire had burnt our paintwork off. The fire brigade managed to put the fire out, but two hundred and forty-six passengers were hurt. The worst thing was that two hundred and twenty-six passengers died in that terrible accident, over eighty of them unrecognisable, their bodies were so badly burnt. Most of them had been in the stopping train. It eventually also turned out that the impact had broken the couplings on some of the coaches at the end of the train, and those coaches just rolled in the opposite direction. Thomas took them back to the Big Station, while another engine helped clear up the mess. But worst of all was the sorry condition of 98462 and 87546, both of whom stood in front of me, beyond repair and dead. So, Gordon, unless you want to end up like them, I suggest you change your attitude.'  
'Pah!' huffed Gordon. 'Those two were foolish and despicable, just like _that_ thing next to you, and unlike me. Roll yourself on the scrapheap, demon, you're nothing but trouble, you and all your design!'  
Edward and Beyer gasped. Gordon was proud, but not usually this rude! Beyer was stunned to the point of tears. 'Then I hope you get what's coming to you!' he replied tearfully as Gordon rolled away to take his evening express. Bear, seeing this, consoled Beyer, while Edward rolled out of his station to take his passenger train for his branch line. He had a few things he wanted to say to Gordon in privacy.

 _Based on the Quintinshill Rail disaster of 1915, when a delayed troop train collided with a local passenger train, and caused an express coming on the opposite line to hit the wreckage and derail, and a fire to break out that consumed all the coal in the tenders of the troop train. 226 passengers died, not counting four unidentified bodies (assumed to be children). Two other trains in the loop were blocked off by the wreckage. The signalmen on duty were held responsible for culpable homicide, and subsequently arrested and sentenced to prison._


	5. Story 4: Rescue In The Snow

_Rescue in the Snow_

Edward backed down onto his coaches at the Big Station next to Gordon. 'You honestly have forgotten that accident, haven't you?' he asked.  
'What accident?' Gordon sniffed.  
'The one I just told Beyer about. Have you honestly forgotten that look on their faces, begging for forgiveness, but knowing it was all too late? You claim to be better than them, but, by the way you have been treating Beyer, you've just been worse.'  
'Huh! I wouldn't expect a little engine like you to understand, Edward. Just keep your funnel out of the business of a big, important engine like myself' sniffed Gordon as he puffed away.

He had a smooth and pleasant run. The rails were easy to grip, the signals were green and the night was clear with a full moon. It looked a beautiful night to go flying along the line, he thought. Then he saw something that made him remember what Edward and Beyer had called him. As he thundered over a level crossing, he saw a car, off the road and engulfed in flames. The car was nearly a burnt-out shell. As Gordon passed, he could've sworn he heard quiet, dying sobs coming from the car, sobs of self-pitying despair, desperation for the end not to come so soon. He suddenly remembered Edward's words: _Have you honestly forgotten that look on their faces, begging for forgiveness, but knowing it was all too late?_ Images flashed in his mind of that same fateful accident. He hadn't really forgotten. He had, in all his self-importance, simply rejected the memory. After all, he had seen the looks on 98462 and 87546, and did not like to speak of such faces, knowing how close he, on that occasion, had come close to death himself. Then he thought of Beyer. The B12's tearful statement came back into his mind: _I hope you get what's coming to you_. This and Edward's words floated around his smokebox. Beyer was a B12, as was 98462, and yet…Gordon remembered everything he had said to Beyer. Not once had he said anything that suggested respect for the B12, be it personally or with regards to how he pulled his trains. Suddenly, Gordon began to feel guilty. He wondered whether or not Beyer truly was like 98462 at all.

A few days later, Beyer was due to leave the railway for his overhaul. To celebrate his departure from Sodor, he was to run a railtour to Barrow-In-Furness, which was due to arrive a few minutes after Gordon's express reached there, and a few minutes before Thomas arrived on his way home to his branch line. His driver woke him up one morning, excited to tell him the news. Beyer grinned. 'A railtour?' he beamed. 'With pleasure, I'll pull it!'  
'Well, we'd better get you ready, then!' smiled the driver.

Beyer was polished until he shone in the daylight, and a special headboard named 'The Northern Flyer', made for the occasion, was placed on his forehead, below his funnel. The other engines were in awe of his appearance, even James, who was green with envy. He wanted to pull a train looking that spotless and wearing a headboard like that at the same time. He hoped it would make him the grandest engine in the world!  
'Come on, Beyer! Time for your first train!' called his driver.  
Beyer backed onto his coaches at Tidmouth station. The Fat Controller was there, as were representatives of the North Yorkshire Moors Railway. 'Do your best, Beyer!' he said. 'Today is your last day on my railway, so make it count!'  
'Thank you, sir! I will, sir!' Beyer grinned. He then saw Gordon on the other platform. Gordon hastily looked away. The Fat Controller noticed this. He had been informed about Gordon's attitude towards Beyer, but had noticed something that suggested guilt within Gordon. He decided to talk to Gordon when the time felt right.

Soon the guard's whistle sounded, and the train was away. With much clanking and hissing, Beyer slowly brought the heavy train into motion. It was a cold day, and heavy snow was falling, making the rails slippery, so the driver had to turn on the sanding gear to help the train grip the rails, but they were soon speeding through the snow-covered countryside.

A few minutes after Beyer left, Gordon pulled out of Tidmouth too, with his express. It was scheduled to depart after the railtour had, giving Beyer time to clear the lines for Gordon. He was still deep in thought about Beyer, and almost didn't notice the guard's whistle as a result. One thing was for certain: he didn't notice a leak in his own vacuum brakes as he neared Barrow-In-Furness that evening, and that his brakes were slowly leaking 'on' as a result. He gently pulled into the station, and stopped, so his passengers could alight for a specially-arranged service. Normally, Pip and Emma would carry on past the station and terminate at London, but, since they were being overhauled, Gordon was to take their express as far as Barrow, where the passengers would change for an Electric Multiple Unit passenger service. Soon it was time to leave. The guard had just put his whistle in his mouth, when there came a commotion at one end of the platform. The stationmaster ran up to Gordon's cab.  
'Bad weather has caused a power failure along the EMU's line' he explained. 'As a result, a passenger train is stranded outside Barrow. I've made arrangements with the signalman and the Fat Controller for a steam engine to take the passengers. Can you drive Gordon onto the other line to collect them?'  
'Of course we will!' agreed the driver.  
'We'll show those EMUs just what a Sudrian steam engine can do!' chuckled Gordon in response. But when his driver opened the regulator, nothing happened. He tried again. Still nothing. Disappointed, he and the fireman looked Gordon all over. They came back looking grim.  
'Your vacuum brakes are jammed, Gordon. Looks like you won't be going anywhere else, today.'  
'But what about the passengers?' asked Gordon.  
'I don't know, boy, I honestly don't know' replied his driver sadly.

Just then, Gordon heard two familiar whistles. Thomas puffed into the station, light engine, returning from the North Norfolk Railway, on a different line to the one belonging to the failed engine, waiting for Gordon to clear the lines. He had not seen the problem at hand, and was not strong enough to pull the broken down train if he did, anyway. Beyer pulled in next to Gordon, returning to his railway. Gordon was relieved to see them both, and quickly explained the problem.  
'So you insult me all the time I have been on Sodor, and now you're asking me for help?' Beyer demanded.  
'Is that true, Gordon?' came a familiar voice. The Fat Controller had been on the train, escorting the North Norfolk Railway representatives to Barrow, and had been informed by Beyer's driver about what had happened between the two engines.  
Gordon gulped. 'Y-yes, sir' he replied meekly.  
Beyer saw this, and spoke up. 'Excuse me, sir, but I think we may count his brake failure as sufficient punishment' he said. 'I also believe we have more pressing matters at hand. Might I suggest that Thomas take some of Gordon's coaches back with him to Tidmouth, making a slight detour, as it were, away from Ffarquhar, and another engine take the rest of the train on? We may be delaying too many passengers otherwise.'  
The Fat Controller pondered. 'Very well, Beyer. Gordon, let this be a lesson to you about wrongly suspecting other engines because they look like someone who wronged you.' He walked away to make the arrangements.

Thomas ran round to the end of the train, where the rear two coaches had been uncoupled. 'Peep! Peep! Passengers who are elderly, disabled, or have very young children with them first, please!' he whistled, looking at the passengers. Most of the older passengers grumbled amongst themselves, but the youngest of the children didn't mind the change in plans – especially when they saw who was pulling them! Then he looked at Gordon. 'First your safety valves, then your dome, now your vacuum brakes! What sort of damage will you do to yourselves next, Gordon?' Gordon wheeshed crossly, then quickly looked over to Beyer's line. He had opened his mouth to apologise, but Beyer was already outside the station, switching onto the other line, ready to rescue the stricken passengers.

'How long are we to be stranded here? It's freezing!' exclaimed the EMU, as it sat alone on the main line into Barrow.  
'Hopefully not too long now, boy. Another engine is due to come and collect the passengers, and then hopefully someone will be sent to rescue us' replied the driver.  
'Oh! Fancy! The passengers get to go first, instead of me! Why can't I be rescued too?' the EMU grumbled.  
'Sorry, boy. The engine coming through is supposed to be a railtour, and has already delayed his passengers to help ours. He doesn't have time to shunt you into the sidings. Anyway, passengers must get through on a railway!'  
The EMU growled and muttered something rude about railtour trains and scrapheaps.  
Presently, they heard a whistle. The EMU's face made a grimace. 'Of all things! It had to be a kettle!' he groaned as Beyer puffed into view, passenger coaches trailing behind him.  
Beyer stopped with a sigh of relief emanating from the passengers, who made their way towards him.  
'Hey, tin can! What are you doing on a railway line? Shouldn't you be on the scrap line?' shouted the EMU. Beyer let off a furious wheesh of steam. This blinded some of the passengers, who, when they had found their way into the coaches, subsequently discovered they were on board a steam train when they were being sold souvenirs in support of Beyer's upcoming overhaul. The cloud of steam only vanished when Beyer puffed away. 'That'll teach you not to say such things about steam engines!' he retorted crossly, just as Diesel, who was currently working at a nearby industrial area, arrived to take the failed EMU home.

Beyer pulled into the station. Angry passengers swarmed around the stationmaster, until the Fat Controller told them about what had happened. Then they swarmed around Beyer. But instead of being cross with him, they wanted to have pictures taken of him, they were so grateful! They even wanted to buy souvenirs of him, so many, in fact, that there wasn't enough to go around! The guard tactfully shooed the passengers into the remaining coaches for Henry, who had arrived to take the rest of the express home. He called out a congratulations to Beyer on his heroic rescue. 'I remember doing something like that myself a long time ago, with two failed diesels' he called. 'I guess we're both 'enterprising' now! I'm sorry about how I treated you, Beyer! Goodbye, and good luck!' And he roared out of the station.  
Beyer was overdue with his railtour, but Gordon knew now was the time to speak.  
'Beyer…I'm…I'm…' he looked apologetic.  
Beyer laughed. 'You don't need to worry, Gordon! I've forgiven you! After Edward told me about 98462 and 87546, I understand why you felt that way. Personally, I don't entirely blame you for holding a grudge like that, especially after their deaths.' Gordon looked relieved. 'However,' Beyer continued seriously, 'I would advise you against ever making judgements like that again. I heard that James once did the same thing with diesels, and he got into a right pickle as a result! Just remember, no two engines are exactly the same!'  
'Except for Bill and Ben, with all their pranks!' laughed Gordon. The two engines chuckled together, until it was time for Beyer to leave.

Beyer still lives at the North Norfolk Railway. His overhaul is nearly complete, and he looks forward to be back in steam soon, to haul passenger trains, and most of all, to visit the North Western Railway again. The engines there look forward to this, also. They, especially Gordon, now acknowledge that the only similarity between him and 98462 is their design, and that one major difference between them is that, while 98462 was a menace to all engines, Beyer is, in their hearts, an engine worthy of being part of the Fat Controller's Railway.

 _Based on an incident during the winter of 2009, in which stranded passengers were rescued by LNER Peppercorn Class A1 No. 60163 'Tornado', after a power failure caused their EMU to break down in the middle of the line. Diesel's appearance and subsequent rescue was based on the fact that some Class 08 shunters are still used around industrial sites, as of 2011. The car on fire was based on one witnessed by the author who was travelling home from the airport in Moscow, early 2010. Gordon's breakdown was partly based on that of Flying Scotsman, who, on the 20_ _th_ _of March 2016, suffered a failed vacuum brake, and was taken out of service for some repairs, cancelling two DMU services as a result._


End file.
